Wood Chipper
by ArcanePracti-cat
Summary: A short, sordid, and tragic tale. (Side note: More-or-less post Season 3.) She was a girl. It was an anthropomorphic piece of logging machinery. Can I make it any more obvious?


A/N:

So, disclaimer, this here is not a story from me. It is actually written by a friend of mine. (Also, of course, RWBY is a product of Roosterteeth, not me.)

Just for context:  
Above friend and I were emailing back and forth about RWBY, and the recent finale of season 3. (Which was pretty intense!)

 ***So there's a BIT of SPOILER ALERT! in this lil' story for the SEASON THREE FINALE! I guess question mark***

I had sent a link about some joke predictions for season 4 that someone had posted to Tumblr. (here, you probably want to read this quick, for your reference: mammothrider (dot tumblr) (dotcom) /post/139392125208/next-season-on-rwby

...I may have, um, implied in a joke that aforementioned Friend should write this. Friend decides to actually do it up real quick, and sends this to me.

About all this- Why?

Y'know, that's absolutely a very good question.

xD

And so, we thought I'd put it up here for some second opinions!

Warnings for some gore, a little bit o' crack, dark thoughts, and just a smidge of the following:

Wtf. Y r u shipping this, friend. Y. What. What have u made.

* * *

Presenting: Just a short story.

WOOD CHIPPER

~by Friend

* * *

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Back as far as it can remember, the wood chipper has been on its own. Sometimes, in a moment of clarity, it can remember a flash of the factory it was assembled in. It had had many brothers and sisters back then, it thinks, but it can never really remember. Perhaps it had been blissful, a place where wood chippers were truly free. Perhaps not. That world is gone to it now, never to be regained.

The loggers had come, and it had been sold as a tool, forced to go with them and destroy whatever they pleased. It had no voice to protest with, and so there was no chance for escape. The days of terrible servitude blended into weeks, and weeks to months. Eventually it lost track of the passage of time, and the years whipped by like a bitter gale.

As the years passed, the wood chipper began to lose itself. Slowly, all the destruction eroded its soul, piece by torturous piece. The world grew darker for it, and where it had at first resisted chewing away at the sad and wounded trees thrust at it, it was now ravenous, rending at their suffering bark, and feasting on their severed limbs. It blinded itself to their writhing as it chewed away at them, deaf to their screams as it shredded their very structure, reducing them to a pile of dead chips.

After a long time, all of its soul was washed away, and all it knew was how to destroy. The only way it knew how to feel, and interact with the world, was through its hopper and teeth.

It did so with relish.

* * *

The bright afternoon sun reflected off the snow, shining into Yang's eyes where she sat in bed. The days for her usually blurred into one, hour after hour, immeasurably slowly ticking away. But today something was different. Today she felt something.

A presence, a soul burning with rage, was near. It was calling out to her, from somewhere out in the snowy world.

At first she ignored the nagging feeling, letting a couple of days go by, trying to tamp down her urge to run after it. But eventually, one moonlit night, she gave in, pulling on a heavy coat and glove, and slipping out the window of her room.

The stars were bright, and the air was crisp as she walked through the night, letting the tugging presence guide her into the woods.

* * *

One day, after a long journey over winding rough roads, the wood chipper found itself in the little town of Patch. The loggers were going to harvest the trees just outside of town.

Towing behind a truck, it watched the beautiful trees longingly as they whipped by. All it could think of was how they would feel, being torn apart inside of it, the way their sap would spatter as they were reduced to tiny chunks.

Yet still a tiny part the wood chipper's heart remained, burdened with guilt after the years of merciless destruction.

The truck that it was towing behind came to a stop in a wood lot, the ground covered with slushy snow and mud. The chainsaws and skidders were already at work, and there was a massive pile of pulp wood built up for it already.

After that first day though, there was not much for it to do. Pulp wood was building up again, but there was not yet enough to warrant taking time to dispose of it. So the chipper sat idle.

And in the night, when the loggers went away, and the deadly quiet reigned, it watched the stars and the shattered moon, broken, just like its spirit. And in that silence it could almost take a moment to consider them beautiful.

It was then that it noticed the girl.

She was standing in the snow, looking up at the broken moon, just as it had been a moment before. Her hair was long and yellow, catching the starlight in fascinating ways; and though she had her back turned, it could sense her inner darkness, much like its own. It could tell, she had lost so much, suffered so much. Yet she stood, resolute, looking up into the dark skies of Remnant.

As though sensing a presence behind her, she turned, her haunting purple eyes coming to rest on its cold metal frame. The moon framed her billowing hair, and cast a goddess-like aura around her. If the wood chipper had been able to breathe, it would have caught its breath; her beauty in that moment was so captivating.

She stepped towards it, and it noticed a slight unbalance in the way she walked. Then it saw: the right arm of her jacket hung empty, gently flapping in the slight breeze of her own movements.

She stopped just inches away from it, her breath frosting against the cold metal of its side. Her eyes were soft, as though she could sense its soul, even though it could never speak to her. She raised her gloved hand, and pulled the glove off with her teeth, dropping it in the snow by her feet. Then she reached out her bare palm and pressed it against the freezing steel of the side of the hopper.

For the first time since it was taken by the loggers, the wood chipper felt warmth. It flooded its soul, made it feel again. Warmth radiated from her palm, all through it, bringing a new life to the tired old metal, giving it hope.

Something inside it stirred, a want to connect with the beautiful blonde in the only way it truly remembered. Caught off guard by the line of thought, the gears inside the wood chipper suddenly moved, beginning to come to life of their own accord. It suppressed the movement, a wave of panic overcoming the desire.

"No!" Its mind screamed. "Not her."

Puzzled by the brief whir of gears, the young woman walked around to the front of the hopper, trailing her hand casually along the smooth metal. Another shudder ran through the chipper, as it barely stopped itself from roaring to life. She paused, peering critically at the blades inside; moonlight glinted off their freshly ground surface. Hesitantly, she reached forward, and ran a finger over the nearest blade, her eyebrows bunched together in confusion.

The struggle was becoming too great for the wood chipper, as its motor began to spark and hum. Suddenly a spark caught in the ignition, and the blades slammed into action, grabbing Yang's hand, and dragging her arm into the swirling storm of metal.

She let out a shocked scream of pain, as the force of the blades jerked her off her feet, into the hopper. The scream cut through the wood chipper to the core, shattering the last piece of heart it had left. As its soul died, the chipper felt its consciousness fade, and the motion of its blade cease. The engine sputtered and fell silent, smoking slightly in the night air, as a little blood dribbled out of the chute.

Yang struggled to sit up in the hopper, staring down at her newly mangled stump, eyes dead.

Her mouth moved silently for a while, then she managed to choke out a single, strangled: "Why?"

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

* * *

0000000000

A/N:

Some tragic Arm-less Yang + Wood Chipper.

WHY?

xD

...So, what'd y'all think?


End file.
